Baby Fubar
by blindedMarquise
Summary: After a night of drinking leads to unprotected sex, Ymir and Bertholdt face difficult choices concerning the fetus growing inside of Ymir's womb. Their choices are as follows; abortion, adoption, or parenthood. Which will they choose? Will they agree on the end result? Part one of the Bertolt Bertholdt/Ymir Parenthood series.
1. Foreword

Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Comedy, Drama  
Rating: 18+/NSFW  
Characters: Bertholdt Fubar, Ymir, Krista Renz, Reiner Braun, Annie Leonhardt, Sasha Braus  
Pairings: Bertholdt/Ymir, Reiner/Krista, Annie/Mikasa (Implied)

If this plus-sign were to follow after a letter grade instead of appearing as the result of a pregnancy test there would be no need for Ymir to have her face so firmly rooted to her palm. Krista sat at the brunette's feet, trying to pry the test away from Ymir's other hand. Although the blonde figured she already knew the answer based on Ymir's reaction, she still insisted on seeing for herself what the results were.

With the smaller of the two tugging on the stick, Ymir pulled it away only to toss it in the garbage can next to her porcelain throne. "Don't touch it," she warned with a muffled voice. "It's dirty—you know my piss it on it."

Krista swallowed down the accumulation of saliva in her mouth, hesitating to ask; "So…its positive, isn't it?"

"What the hell do you think?" Ymir replied, keeping herself bent over, with her elbow on her knee, adding to the support she currently required in order to keep her head high enough.

Ymir hadn't been preparing for this, hell—she didn't have the slightest idea of what choice she'd make in light of the situation either. Abortion was still an option for her as she had little confidence in her potential as a parent, but then again—adoption also remained an option, or…even keeping the child.

There was only one man the father could be. Ymir had been strictly homosexual throughout her high school days, only recently coming to a better understanding of herself as a pansexual woman. She'd slept with numerous women, earning an insurmountable amount of experience.

Then she decided to start drinking…


	2. Chapter One

It'd been nearly a month since she'd first experienced, first-hand, what sex was like between opposite sexes. Going to Bertholdt's apartment hadn't been a result of too much alcohol in her system; in fact she even arrived sober to the little get-together. She hadn't planned on staying sober, nor did she imagine that this would be the night she conceived. The only plan she had going into the party for four was getting smashed, there was nothing more unbearable than witnessing Reiner flaunt his relationship with Krista, waving it in her face. He was never very subtle, but it was just enough that it allowed for it to fly over Krista's head.

She'd begun gulping down a glass of absinthe, the putrid green drink reminding her of black-licorice in taste. Her nose was wrinkled from the stingy scent and her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she started on a second glass, far from concerned about the alcoholic content of the drink. It didn't take much time before she was completely intoxicated, prompting for the host to remove the absinthe from her range.

"I think you've had enough…" Bertholdt commented with a minute, apprehensive frown upon his lips. "You should drink some water or you could wind up in the hospital."

"Water's for pussies," the brunette replied after belching loudly, only managing to cover her mouth after the sonic boom.

Krista protested in favor of Bertholdt's advice, only fueling Ymir's desire to drink more. It wasn't uncommon for Krista to unwittingly team-up against Ymir, and it forged a greater strain on their friendship; on top of the pre-existing difficulties due to Reiner's frequent company.

Reiner had stretched his leg out to the loveseat Ymir was sprawled upon, the tip of his toe forcibly nudging her lower leg. "I bet you're going to throw that up all over Bert's carpet," the muscular male mocked. "You can't handle the tough shit."

With her eyes narrowed, Ymir shook her head. "I can handle this just fine." She crossed her arms over her chest and sank down into the loveseat until her head was bent in a particularly uncomfortable-looking fashion, an irritated huff forcing her nostrils to flare.

She continued to pout until her eyes grew heavy. Alcohol had never sat well in her system, but she often drank more than advisable for someone with her alcohol tolerance. There were two, often interchanging, states Ymir became when intoxicated. Growing tired, and passing out, was the more common of the two. From the times in which she'd passed out before vomiting the contents of her stomach, Ymir learned that she preferred to throw-up when she was conscious. Due to drinking as much as she did in a single duration required for laundry to be at the top of her chore list the following day were she to pass out.

* * *

Upon opening her eyes she realized she was snuggled up beneath the warmth of an Afghan blanket. The entire room was dark. She could have sworn the ceiling light had been on just moments ago. Slowly she sat up and glanced across the room. Immediately she took notice of the lack of others in the vicinity, her first guess was that she'd fallen asleep early and the party ended in the meantime.

"Bert…?"

It didn't take more than a moment before a light was flipped on, blinding Ymir. She covered her eyes and groaned. "You could have warned me a bit, you know," she groused.

"Oh, sorry," he replied, frowning as he motioned over to her slowly. "Are you ready to go home?"

"I guess… kind of don't want to go home this drunk though…"

Bertholdt sat down next to her on the loveseat, forcing Ymir to pull her legs up close to her chest. "So you want to stay here for the night, then…?"

She nodded; no hesitation in her confirmation.

"I guess you can stay the night. You can choose where you want to sleep, there's this or the couch, or I guess you can always stay in… well… in my bed."

Gradually a grin began to spread across Ymir's lips, perhaps it was the alcohol bringing a light flush to her cheeks as well. "Will you be in the bed if I choose to sleep there?"

"Ymir!" Bertholdt exclaimed, his face turning rouge in the matter of seconds. "Of course I'm not going to sleep with you!" For a moment, he seemed to hesitate as if he had more to say; instead he fell silent and glanced away from the woman.

Ymir raised her eyebrows high over the amber orbs that peered at Bertholdt with the upmost curiosity. "Why not, do I have _cooties_ or something?"

"T-that's not what I meant, and you know it!"

"Then why won't you sleep with me in the same bed?" she asked.

"B-because. That's indecent."

"Indecent?" questioned the brunette. "How is that indecent? It's not like I'd be… touching you." Ymir had moved herself closer to him mid-sentence, now invading his personal space significantly. Bertholdt could smell the alcohol on her breath and he tried to ease himself up off of the loveseat.

"Y-you're still really intoxicated, Ymir. I don't think you know what you're s-saying," he explained, motioning further away from her.

"I think you're wrong about that," she retorted, moving to keep the space between them as minimal as possible.

"I-it's not like I wouldn't sleep with you. It's just that you're drunk and if something happens—that's rape; you know that, right?"

"I don't care _what_ it is, Fubar," Ymir said while she began crawling onto her host's lap. It was blatantly clear by the way his breathing grew shallower, almost panicked, that Bertholdt was growing increasingly nervous.

"Y-Ymir, please, this isn't appropriate, you're dr—"

The brunette had sealed her lips to Bertholdt's after having cupped his face between her hands, keeping him close to her as she tried to feel his mouth. The entire world was softer with the alcohol still in her system and it was harder to feel the lips she'd pressed her own to. Her eyebrows furrowed and she pushed her lips against his harder, just trying to feel what was so fuzzy to her.

Instead of sustaining his protests, Bertholdt began to melt into the kiss. He wasn't innocent of drinking; he'd had a few beers during the time following Ymir's descent into sleep. He could taste a faint amount of the bitter absinthe remains on her lips, however the host began to slowly prod his tongue out between his lips and got a much more saturated taste.

Ymir didn't hesitate in extending her tongue out between her lips, greeting his much more enthusiastically. The response she elicited from Bertholdt only fueled the blooming intensity; he had closed his lips around her tongue and began dragging her closer with his teeth lightly squeezing her tongue. Neither of them protested, their arms beginning to tangle around on another whilst they shifted minute by minute until they were laying down on the loveseat.

Bertholdt reached behind Ymir, removing her signature clip from her shoulder length tresses. He had only seen her with her hair down a time or two, and it excited him that she only encouraged the removal of all of her garments. While their tongues tangled between their mouths, Ymir began to pull at Bertholdt's shirt, dragging his sweater up first.

When she tried to pull it over Bertholdt's head, he whined in protest. Now that he had his lips locked sensually with hers he didn't want to lose that contact. Ymir puffed through her nose in amusement, pulling away from his lips with a grin on her own.

"Ymir…" Bertholdt whimpered in disappointment.

"You're getting to see me naked tonight, and you're whining because I'm getting you undressed?"

"N-no, I…I'm going to see you naked? Are we…?"

Ymir paused after pulling the blue sweatshirt over Bertholdt's head, her eyes watching his expression. "Do you not want to?" She didn't allow for her words to hold any of her emotions, nor her desires.

"No, I-I do, but… erm… never mind," said the taller.

For a moment or two, neither of them moved an inch. Ymir's eyes were still locked onto Bertholdt's face, wondering if he was willing to make the next move. She waited with more patience than Bertholdt and was rewarded when he began to remove his white button-up. His muscles were well defined-.

Ymir let her hand find his pecks, resting her palms down the muscles before she began to massage them softly. It startled Bertholdt, yet he withheld his moans of surprise. Instead, he allowed for his breathing to slow down while he reached up to pull at Ymir's shirt. Her eyes met with his once more, a sly smirk beginning to pull at her lips. He took this as his chance to remove her shirt, his hands guiding the green fabric up over her torso and exposing the black racerback she was wearing underneath it.

She leaned in close to him, leaving minimal space between her lips and his ear. "I want you to touch me…" she purred. It elicited a shiver, his nipples growing rigid beneath her fingers while goose bumps rose up along his skin. He whispered her name against her neck, raising her bra over her breasts and exposing her dark brown nipples.

Bertholdt's cheeks flushed darkly. He'd never heard of women having nipples so dark, he thought all nipples were a very pale pink. Naturally, Ymir took notice of his reaction and she tilted her head slightly. "Is this your first time seeing a woman naked?"

Too ashamed to answer the question, Bertholdt dipped down to her exposed chest and let his tongue trail along one of the dusty cocoa buds. Normally Ymir would insist upon arguing, but the alcohol in her system raised the intensity of her pleasure, perhaps it had ties to the fact she also had been harboring a hidden affection towards the male currently hovering over her.

She let out soft puffs of air every other lick, giving Bertholdt the courage to continue. He closed his lips around her nipple, suckling softly upon the bud while he massaged her other breast. Ymir began to squirm underneath him, more impatient than usual, but she had enough sense about her to not whine for him to hurry it up. Her hands reached between their bodies to begin unbuttoning her black pants, forcing the zipper down hastily before weaseling herself out of the pants legs.

Bertholdt paused and pulled his head up to gaze at her, a thin string of saliva connecting his lips to her hardened nipple. She gave him a reassuring grin as she kicked her pants across the room with no second thought. Nervously he returned a smile before he lowered his head back down and began to kiss between her breasts. Slowly he trailed down, leaving no spot un-kissed, nearing to her hips. When he arrived at the upper elastic hem of her panties he hesitated, cheeks flushing bright crimson as he pressed two fingers against her body.

Almost surprised by how little time it took in comparison to her expectation, Ymir released a lewd moan. She didn't bother with feeling humiliation from making such a sound, his fingers were resting right against her clitoris and it felt amazing.

His heart was galloping wildly inside his chest, his mouth growing dry. Lightly he rubbed his fingers back and forth over her anatomy, earning more moans and whines of appreciative anticipation. Bert hooked his fingers around her panties, pulling them to the side and finding a sight he'd never forget. Ymir's panties had hardly absorbed any of the juices her body had been making. Her labia glistened, a delicious and musky scent coming from her body. He hadn't been intending to do this, but her scent was so intoxicating that he couldn't keep his tongue from licking up her translucent essence.

She gasped loudly, her hands reaching down and grasping his hair. She didn't pull hard, but she kept her grip firm. His tongue was so warm against her drenched lips and when he licked her, she couldn't inhibit the lewd mewls of arousal that fell from her mouth.

He pushed his tongue inside of her, earning a louder cry from the woman. She tasted just as wonderful as she smelled; he couldn't get enough of the warm nectar that her body was eagerly producing. He only ceased when she whined his name out in need. Curious, he lifted his head to look at her and saw how disheveled she was.

"Please… I can't wait."


	3. Chapter Two

The two of them had taken their activities into the privacy and comfort of Bertholdt's bedroom. Ymir had laid down on the bed after removing her panties, her legs spread wide to expose as much of her as possible. By this time, Bertholdt's pants had grown far too tight. A sigh of relief came over him when he allowed for his pants and boxers to join Ymir's lace black thong.

"Come here," the woman hummed softly, motioning for him to join her on the full-size bed.

Bertholdt eagerly crawled onto his own bed, hovering over the freckled Venus once more. A drunken grin spread across her lips while she raised her arms, forming an adoring noose around his neck to bring him even closer to her. Their lips converged once again, a feverish pace in their movements.

He had angled himself perfectly with her moistened lips, pushing his hips forward to test the warmth and the softness of her sex. Her body surged with a shock of pleasure when he rubbed the head of his cock against her clit. Ymir hummed desperately against his lips, the anticipation killing her. Leisurely he pressed himself inside of her, her outer lips stretching wide and inviting him in deeper.

She pulled her mouth back, saliva trailing down her jaw as she let out a strained moan. Bertholdt cupped her hips in his hands with uncertainty, continuing to ease himself inside until he reached his hilt. Ymir had wrapped her arms around Bert for support by the time he was half-way inside of her. He was thicker than she would have imagined, his girth exceeding even the juiciest of dildos she and her partners had ever used during their sessions.

Carefully Bertholdt wrapped his arms around Ymir, holding her close while her body squeezed around him in curiosity of the intrusion. "Are you okay…?" he asked softly, breaking the silence between the two of them.

"You're so thick… I'm amazed I didn't rip," she commented lightly whilst she turned her head to snuggle into the crook of his neck. "How you haven't broken anyone's pelvis, I'll never understand."

"Ymir! D-don't talk so dirty…" the host scolded. His face was burning with the heat accompanying the blush on his cheeks, Ymir never failed to get him all flustered.

The woman laughed seductively, her lips rested against his warm skin while she spoke to him; "Oh, come on, Bert. We're here, we're drunk, we're naked, you're inside of me…"

She tested her limits by rocking her hips up against his, finding the piercing sensation absent now that her body had adjusted to the thickness of Bertholdt's shaft. A sly grin curled on her lips, a lewd snicker coming from her. She gazed up at Bert and presented her lustful, drunk expression with pride, "I want you to fuck me hard."

"Ymir!"

The woman paused, slowly looking from between their bodies all the way up to his eyes. His masculine brows furrowed, a frown grasping his lips in a firm snare.

"Stop talking like that," he said. "I don't like it…"

As intoxicated as she was, Ymir knew he was serious. His feelings were genuine, they weren't softened to spare her own any. The dazed brunette slowly leaned in to rest her forehead against his shoulder apologetically. "I'm sorry…"

It surprised Bertholdt that he was seeing Ymir like this, completely stripped of all of her defense mechanisms and self-defending masks. Only the alcohol was protecting her, and it wasn't a very strong barrier. He wrapped his arms around her torso, admiring the way her breasts pressed up against his toned chest. She was soft compared to his chiseled form and he found great comfort from how squish-able she was.

"Ymir…" he sighed into her ear. "I do want to do this… I just… can we be real?"

"Yeah, we can," whispered Ymir. "I want this too…"

His heart was racing in his chest, making it increasingly difficult for him to move with grace. He wanted to show her a good time, but he also wanted it to be passionate without the slimy feel of porn-inspired intimacy.

Pulling his hips back he got an amazing sense of how much she wanted him, her body struggling to let him go. Her innermost lips grasped him tightly and fought to keep him inside of her. And so he did. He buried himself back inside of her warmth, letting out a small grunt. Ymir let out a sound he didn't expect to hear, a genuine moan of pleasure.

By pulling his head back enough to peer at her face; he caught a glimpse of her at her most vulnerable. Her cheeks were glowing with red and her mouth was slightly open, heated breaths escaping from the part between upper and lower lip. Bertholdt leaned down and pressed his lips to the bridge of her nose as he began to thrust in and out of her body with great care.

She whined out a little and opened her eyes to see him above her, her hands resting flatly along his spine. "Bert… Bert, please…"

A small grin formed upon his lips until he joined them with hers, muffling her moans of pleasure. His hips continued to rock, pushing him deeper inside of her tight womanhood. The tip of his length was kissing her womb, making her cry out against his lips, meshing hers against his passionately as her body was cradled beneath Bertholdt's with each thrust.

He placed his hand on her hips, caressing them while in the process of hastening his pace. Ymir pulled her head away, gasping and panting as she clutched tightly onto him. "You make me feel so good, I-I… I've never felt so good…! Bert…!"

The color on her face was minimal compared to that spreading across his face. Drops of sweat had begun running down his face, trailing to his chin where they dripped down on her collar-bone. Ymir at one point had noticed the sweat falling from his chin, but she only basked in the knowledge of how hard he was working to please not only himself, but her as well.

Her legs swung up and wrapped themselves around Bertholdt's hips, forcing him to thrust harder into her, eliciting a loud squeal of gratification. He smiled through his own deep gasps for breath, his hips moving almost as if they had a mind of their own. Bert had never exactly been athletic despite his visits to the gym to keep his body toned. His stamina was very short, and he often had to take breaks during his workouts to recover his strength. Yet here he was between Ymir's legs, pushing his endurance farther than he had ever managed.

They continued on, Ymir's blissful cries growing more desperate as she neared her release, her body tightening its already firm grasp on Bertholdt's length. He didn't remember when he began to moan in harmony with her, the melody of their pleasure filling his room to its brim.

"Be-Bert… I can't hold on anymore… I'm going to cum… I-I… I going to cum…!" she warned, her eyes squeezing shut. Her mouth began to open wide, louder cries emitting from her throat while Bertholdt increased the pace of his hips to his fullest extent.

"Ymir… Ymir... you're so beautiful," he praised while kissing her neck feverishly. His mouth paused and his lips trembled when her body reached its peak, her walls crushing him with such warmth. Bertholdt's eyes screwed shut and he shuddered with pleasure, a grunt breaking away from him as he released his seed into her womb.

She was shivering beneath him, her entire body trembling. Carefully he pulled his length out of her warmth, encouraging her legs to loosen around him before he pulled the exhausted woman into his arms. Ymir opened her eyes to look up at him; completely spent, drained of her energy. When he smiled down at her, her heart lurched, almost seeming to cease beating for a split-second. A tired smile fixated itself upon her face, a tender affection in the gaze she held with him.

"Thank you…" she whispered in a weary voice so quiet that it was barely audible.

Bertholdt knew from the way her eyes began to droop that she was about to fall into a well-deserved slumber; he lay down with her in his arms and carefully draped the covers over their bare bodies. Before she lost all consciousness, Ymir snuggled up closer to Bertholdt, her face laid upon his chest.

He lay awake for a while longer, stroking her hair gingerly while she drifted further into sleep. Bertholdt had always noticed Ymir, often from a distance, the distance she held everyone at. Krista was the only one exempt from the wall Ymir had built around herself. He was sure she had a justifiable reason to defend herself from those around her. His only wish was to be granted permission within Ymir's world…


	4. Chapter Three

Krista rubbed Ymir's back to help sooth her while her entire body braced for another wave of sickness. She kept her head hung low, huddled over the toilet for the fourth time that morning. A low, miserable groan wiggled between her lips.

"You should see a doctor, Ymir," Krista suggested, her lips pinned downwards. "You might have caught the stomach flu or another digestion related ailment."

"All a doctor is just going to do is add a hefty-fucking-bill to make things worse. I'd rather just let it work itself out of my system _and_ keep my money, thank you very much," groaned Ymir, her voice reverberating through the toilet and out into the bathroom where the echo grew even more nauseating to her. "Urgh…"

Krista huffed a little, the palm of her hand smacking Ymir's back and causing the woman to grumble. "I'm serious, Ymir. You've been throwing up all morning, and the reason you had me stay up all-night with you was because you were throwing up all yesterday too."

Hesitantly Ymir raised her head from the porcelain ring, her eyes wavering with tears but no sadness in her expression. A trace amount of bile clung to the corner of her lips. "Do I have to…?"

"It's that or you're coming with me to the drug store to grab some medicine," the blonde stated firmly; much to Ymir's dismay.

"Fine," she snorted, using her wrist to wipe her mouth clean.

Following a quick shower, the two women set off, heading down the three-story staircase of Ymir's apartment building. They were both bundled up for the late-January weather, Ymir's hair tucked under her hood while Krista sported bright-fuchsia earmuffs. Ymir wrinkled her nose at the snow that fell on their faces and gave sparkle to the hair framing her face.

"Can it just stop with all the snow?" grouched the taller of the two.

"It's still only January, silly," Krista teased, her nose red from the bitter cold around them. "We might as well enjoy winter while it's here, right?"

Ymir sulked, burying her nose into the faux fur lining her coat. "More like we go south for the winter so that we can enjoy sunshine like normal people."

The blonde giggled and linked arms with her darling friend, leading their way to the nearest drug store. It was several blocks away, and another several over, yet it was faster on foot than it would having caught a public bus. Once they were within sight of the store, Krista picked up the pace and Ymir nearly stumbled over her own feet.

"Calm down, it's not that great that we're almost there…!" whined the brunette.

Krista only smiled and dragged Ymir into the store, both of them greeted after the bell above the door announced their arrival. Ymir lowered her hood and sighed, pulling the zipper of her coat down and letting herself breathe.

The two women began going up and down each aisle of the drug store, Ymir's eyes lingering on various boxes containing medicine, masks, tests and whatnot. Whereas Krista was diligently searching up and down the shelves for some kaolin clay to ease Ymir's upset stomach. She stopped on aisle five and reached her hand way up high, "Ymir! I found something to help!"

Ymir slowly made her way over to Krista's side, humming in curiosity at what she'd found. Krista held up a little box containing anti-nausea medicine. "I think this will help you and keep you from throwing up any more than you already have," Krista commented as she turned the box over to read the active ingredients and instructions. "So you—"

"Mmn!" Ymir sealed her hand over her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut as she forced her vomit back down her throat. When she urged her eyes to finally open, Krista was looking at her with severe concern.

"Ymir, you know how you told me that you and Bert… did it?"

She raised an eyebrow a little, staring down at Krista with uncertainty. "Yeah? What about it?"

"Do you think you could be pregnant?" the blonde asked, her voice becoming a whisper so that no one in the adjacent aisles could overhear their conversation.

The brunette threw her head back, laughing hard enough to throw up in the back of her throat , requiring for her to swallow the bile and undigested food down once again. "Hell no, there's no way that _I_ could be pregnant! Besides, it was only _one_ time."

Krista furrowed her brows and took in a deep breath, "But didn't you say that you didn't use protection?"

"I said I didn't _remember_ using protection," she replied whilst taking the box from Krista's grip. "Besides, I got my period the day after that happened, there's no way I could be."

"You're taking a test, either at home with me there or at the doctors'," Krista declared, giving Ymir a firm stare that made the taller woman shift uncomfortably in her spot.

"Please don't," whined Ymir. Her eyebrows had sunk low over her eyes and she wore a disturbed grimace.

Blonde tresses flew back and forth, Krista unyielding in her course of action. She began to retrace their steps back to the feminine hygiene and family planning section of aisle two, her sky-blue eyes running from top to bottom of the shelves. Ymir had no ceased protesting, her hands reaching to take the boxed set-of-two from Krista's grip, to no avail.

* * *

"So you need to pee on the absorbent end, then re-cap it and wait for the result in… ten minutes." Krista handed the stick to Ymir with a small smile on her lips. "Do you want or me to wait outside until you've re-capped it?"

"Doesn't matter anyways…" grumbled the woman seated on the toilet, her panties already around her ankles.

After pulling the plastic cap off of the stick she guided it between her legs, waiting for her bladder to squeeze her urine out in a steady stream. It took a few trickles before she had a steady stream of yellow waste expelling itself from her body, the absorbent end of the pregnancy test drenched and ready to be re-capped.

Krista sat down on the woven rug placed on the floor in front of the bathroom counter, her head resting against the cabinet doors. Her eyes fixated on Ymir while she cleaned herself up, flushing the toilet and pulling her panties back up. There was no need to put her pants back on, she wasn't planning on leaving her apartment again that day.

"Do you think it'll be positive or negative?" Krista asked softly.

"Negative, I'm only taking this so you'll believe me when I say I'm not pregnant."

"And if you are…?"

"Hell no, I'm not raising a kid. I'm only twenty-years-old. I can't even legally drink yet," Ymir said. "There's no way I can raise a kid if I can't even follow the laws made to protect me from myself."

"So… you'll put it up for adoption?"

"Why should I put up with nine months of pregnancy for a kid I'm not even going to keep and who will only add to the disheartening number of children who need homes?"

Krista frowned a little, "If Reiner and I weren't fertile, I would adopt your baby…"

"_If_. And besides, we don't even know if I'm pregnant yet, which I'm likely fucking not," Ymir said, placing her chin in her palm while she remained seated. "Abortion would be the best choice for this, don't you think?"

"But it's half of you, Ymir…"

"So? It's half Bert's, too."

"Don't you think he should have a say in this?" questioned the virgin in the room.

Ymir snorted, her eyes rolling before focusing back on Krista. "Why should he? It's not like its living inside of his body; he's not the one who's going to have to carry an additional ten-to-twenty pounds in his uterus. He doesn't even have one, for Christ's sake…"

A silence rose between the two of them, Ymir's eyes were cast down at her feet whilst Krista also happened to thoughtlessly stare at the same site. Ymir was breathing heavily, her entire diaphragm getting a workout from each inhale. She was beginning to doubt her chances of being a free woman.

There was a growing worry that inside of her was a fetus, still so minuscule, but growing every day. She wasn't prepared to be a parent, her drinking habits and full-time, minimum-wage job were massive indicators of such immaturity. Instead of attending a university following high school, Ymir had just gotten herself a full-time job as a clerk at a nearby convenience store.

If she couldn't afford any personal luxuries after paying her bills each month, how would she be able to care for another living being? Especially if Bertholdt chose to have nothing to do with the child she could be carrying. Sure, he'd have to pay child support, but that would only send him into crippling debt since he was attending a college.

"It's been ten minutes."

She nearly jumped off of the toilet seat when Krista spoke up after having gotten too entranced in her own thoughts. Carefully she picked up the pregnancy test and peered at the small result-window. She rested her face in her hand, looking at the box. On the side was an example of how this test in particular would look if it was positive. There would be a plus-sign in the result-window. Her eyes floated over the test once more. Inside the window was a plus-sign.


	5. Chapter Four

There was no saliva for her to swallow, her lips were trembling, her stance rigid. She wasn't even on the correct floor, let alone even inside of the apartment building. Ymir's fingers struggled forward, reaching for the button next to "302" bright-white letters. Lightly she pressed her middle and ring finger against the smooth surface, taking in a deep breath before she forced her hand further. The button lit up with a dim light.

When an apartment resident opened the door feet from her she nearly jumped out of her skin, letting out an audible gasp and raising her hand to block her face. She knew he was watching her until he headed through the second door leading outside; it was clear by the pace in his footsteps and how slow they began only to gain speed by the time the door opened and closed behind him.

Never in all of her years had she been so on edge, a cigarette sounded lovely but she was in no condition to light a straight. There was still half-a-pack shoved in her "hobo" shoulder-bag, she figured she might as well give them to someone who wants them since she had no need for them anymore…

The static from the intercom-system blasted a hole through her chest, the woman clutching the thick zipper of her gray parka. Her heart leapt higher than any three-story building and was taking its sweet time coming back down.

"Hello…?"

She firmly pressed down on the "TALK" button, "Bertholdt. It's me, Ymir. Can you let me in?"

"Ymir? Oh… yeah, I suppose," he murmured, his voice muffled from her side of the system. "I'm sick, but at least I'm giving you a warning, right…?"

"Mhm, now let me in," she commanded. Inside she was frightened, worried, frustrated—but her skills in feigning a composed disposition were phenomenal.

She could hear the door next to her unlock with a loud clang, and she allowed herself inside of the apartment building. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was nicer than some of the buildings she'd resided in. After removing her parka, Ymir started towards the elevator. When given the chance, she never passed up the luxury of taking an elevator as opposed to walking up the stairwell. Especially when this elevator was fairly swift, getting her to the third floor in twenty-seconds flat.

When the doors parted and allowed for her to exit, Ymir guided herself through the hall. She'd navigated through these halls while highly intoxicated, yet it posed a much greater challenge to tread the halls with such a frantic heartbeat.

It took all the strength she had to urge herself in front of his apartment; and even then her fight or flight response threatened to make this meeting a disaster. Ymir rapped upon the door and stood with her legs pressed tightly together, her arms strangling the parka she was carrying. From inside the apartment she could hear coughing and the thumping of unsteady footsteps, she supposed that Bertholdt must be pretty sick to make such noise when he was so reticent in nature.

He struggled to open the door after having forgotten to unlatch the chain lock, having to reclose the door and fix his mistake before reopening the heavy door for her. "Please, feel free to make yourself at h-h—"

Bertholdt was interrupted by a violent coughing fit, his arm raised up so he could let the fit pass into his inner elbow and allow him to refrain from spreading his cold.

"I'm sorry, I've had a cold the last couple days…" he explained.

Ymir shook her head, stepping into his apartment dubiously; "It's alright, I'm not doing so well either."

"Did you catch the bug going around downtown?" asked Bertholdt as he made his way into the kitchen to fetch a glass from his cupboard. "Reiner said that business has been slow at the gym all week because so many members are ill."

Once again, she shook her head. His eyebrows knitted together while he poured some 7-Up into his glass and he made a small noise in search for confirmation.

"Oh? Then what did you catch?"

"That's what I came here to talk to you about, Bertholdt."

The raven-haired male became still, his view centered on the fizzing drink he had poured for himself. "You came to talk to me about not feeling well…?"

She exhaled deeply, riveting her eyes to the fur lining of her hood as it hung on the coat hook. "We have a problem."

Cautiously Bertholdt padded his way from the kitchen to where she stood by the window, cupping his glass in both hands and avoiding her gaze. "Can… can I ask what kind of problem…?" he prompted.

"Give me your hand."

"My hand…?"

"A hand, your hand, I don't care," she fussed.

Not wishing to agitate her further, Bertholdt changed his grip on his cup so he could offer her the hand she demanded for. For nearly a minute she simply gripped his hand, petrified to move it closer to her body. After letting out a shaky breath, Ymir pulled his hand towards her abdomen.

"Ymir, what… are you—"

Bertholdt didn't bother to finish his sentence, fully understanding the gesture she made. Her hand had guided his to her stomach, resting his palm against the new curve in her figure.

"Because of that night…?"

The freckle-graced woman bobbed her head in affirmation, refusing to look up at the father. She used all of her will power to abstain from backing away from him when his hand finally recoiled. Her eyes shut and her posture lost its remaining pride.

Bertholdt set down his glass on the nearby coffee table, making sure it was away from the ledge before he turned back to Ymir. Her arms had wrapped around her waist, she was trying to comfort herself as if she'd been rejected or betrayed. He didn't understand why she seemed to feel that way, but he knew he needed to be the one to provide her with solace.

His arms extended out and brought her into a tender embrace, his face pressing against her silky hair. "Ymir…"

"I'm sorry…"

"Sorry…? For what?"

"It's my body that allowed for this to happen… I was the one who initiated it that night, I was the one who didn't go home…"

A frown spread over his lips, his eyes softening. "Ymir, we had equal part in all of this. I could have driven you home, I could have refused your advances, and I could have prevented it as much as you could have. We didn't… Now we have choices to make."

She slowly nodded, pressing her face against his chest until she felt safe. His arms were secure around her, keeping her from leaving yet allowing her the space she needed to breathe a little.

"What do you want? It is your body…"

"I don't know, Bert… How do you feel about abortion?"

His insides churned at the thought. This child wasn't even close to resembling either of them, but he couldn't bear the thought of a half of him to be eliminated before its time had even begun. "I don't like it, but again—it's your body."

"Adoption?" she proposed.

Bertholdt kept his nose submerged in her hair while he inaudibly pondered his stance on both suggestions that had been offered. "I would rather not abort—but if you don't want to go through with carrying to term, that's our option. Otherwise, I'd prefer we give it up for adoption… Those are our choices."

She closed her eyes, securing her own arms around his waist. "We have one other…"

"Another?"

"Keep it."

"Are we stable enough to raise a child?" he inquired. "I'm in college, working part-time. And you're just working full-time, right?"

"Right," she replied. "But it's still an option. Maybe not the best option, but it's one of them."

"How would that work, Ymir?" Bertholdt asked with all sincerity. "We're not together, so how would we raise a baby?"

"We could take turns; every other day, every couple of days, every other week… I could get a breast pump so that it'd be able to grow healthy even when it's in your care. When you have finals week, I can just watch it the entire time, take off a week of work… We could choose which holidays to take the baby home to see our families, like you could have Thanksgiving, and I could have Christmas…"

"Ymir, do you really want to live like that…?" he questioned.

"I don't know what I want, Bert… I wasn't planning on this; and neither were you," Ymir replied, her voice wavering a little. "I'm scared…"

"Come on… sit down with me."

Ymir nodded, looking up and catching his gaze for the first time since she arrived. His eyes were clouded with worry and the utmost concern. No one outside of her family, with which she included Krista, had ever had such consideration for her feelings or conditions. Bertholdt led her to the couch where it'd all began, his hands helping guide her onto the cushions and atop of him. They lay belly-to-belly as Ymir's stomach had not yet extended to a point where such a position would be dangerous for the baby.

"Thank you, Bertholdt…"

"For what, Ymir?" he asked, peering up at her with his eyebrows raised high over his dark-slate orbs.

"This, everything, for being here…" she explained.

He let out an exhausted, hoarse laugh, and brought one hand up to comb his fingers through her hair. "Ymir… it wouldn't be right of me to abandon you and our baby. Both of you need me to be here, and I'm not going anywhere."


	6. Chapter Five

Bright sapphire eyes peered at the clock across the room which read "12:02 AM." Ymir still hadn't returned home, and Krista was beginning to worry for her friend's sake. She picked up her cherry-red phone once again in hopes that she'd received a text message or voicemail since she last checked prior to taking a shower.

Nothing.

She flipped through her trash bin to make sure she hadn't deleted a message from Ymir by mistake. There were only old texts between her and Reiner in the folder of deleted messages. Her lips pursed together while she navigated her way back to her home screen, pressing the call icon and entering in Ymir's speed-dial code. The line rang for nearly a minute before she heard Ymir's voice instead of the automated voice inbox machine.

"Hello…?"

"Where are you?! You've been gone since I left for work this afternoon!" The silence that followed was a sign to Krista that Ymir hadn't even remembered that there was anyone she needed to inform about her whereabouts. They had moved out for over a year ago, after all, and Ymir was usually the one at home when not working.

"I'm sorry that I forgot to update you on where I was," apologized the brunette. Before she had the chance to wipe her eyes dry of tears, Bertholdt had extended his pinky to carefully collect the condensation in the corners of her eyes. She hadn't been crying, answering her phone had blinded her after she had fallen asleep for an unknown amount hours.

Krista let out a little sigh, still a tad riled up despite that her worries had been lifted from her shoulders. "Are you staying there… overnight?"

Ymir squinted, looking past her phone into the darkness around them. She didn't want to blind him either, but she struggled to see him even as close as he was to her. "Hang on."

Bertholdt was watching Ymir with a groggy expression, one eyebrow peaked above the other when Ymir pressed her cell phone against her chest. "Am I spending the night?" she asked, her eyes shifting back and forth in search for his in the nearly pitch-black room.

Without the confirming sound he made and the movement from what she presumed was a nod of the head, Ymir likely would have sat there in the metaphorical and literal dark. She lifted the phone up once more so that the receiver was to her ear.

"I'm spending the night here, is that alright? Can you handle a night home alone?"

"Of course I can, Ymir! I'm not a little girl… I just wanted to make sure you were alright and that you had made it there safely since I haven't heard from you all day," the blonde murmured softly. "Do you want me to close the door so the cat doesn't get in your room during the night?"

"If you don't mind, it'd be great," replied Ymir while she slowly shifted back down until her face was resting on Bertholdt's shoulder. "I'll probably be home around noon tomorrow, give or take a few hours."

Krista tittered softly, "Spending time with your husband?"

"…Don't even joke like that," she groaned, shuddering a little at the thought of "husband" being used as a new nickname for Bertholdt.

"Alright, alright," the blonde teased as she dried some of her hair using the towel draped over her shoulders. "I'll let you be then, see you tomorrow when you get home."

Ymir gave a grunt followed with a goodbye, closing out of the phone call by pressing "end call." The world was dark again and Ymir lay her head back down on Bert's shoulder. He seemed happy to wrap his arms around her securely, and oddly enough she enjoyed being held like that.

"You fell asleep before I could ask a question," he confessed to her.

"Did I? What was it you were going to ask?"

He took a deep inhale and hesitated with a sigh, his cheeks warm but concealed by the shadows. "When did you find out about this? Er—about the baby, being pregnant."

The woman closed her eyes and nuzzled her face against the crook of his neck, "About a week ago…"

"So… how far a-along are you now?"

It wasn't hard to tell he was unsure of himself when it came to discussing the baby, for Ymir it was endearing in a sense. Of course, Bertholdt had always been timid and uneasy around others, but this was a new level of anxiety. He wasn't the only one feeling anxious, but his apprehension was more pronounced in comparison to Ymir.

"I'm about… eight weeks now, I think," she answered after a pause to recount the weeks that had gone by since they conceived. "At least, that's what pregnancy calculators have told me. Apparently the first two weeks of 'pregnancy' happen even before conception. This shit is all so weird… There's the most minimal baby bump starting, my breasts are swelling, and I've been throwing up since last week."

"It's not… moving yet, is it?"

Ymir shook her head, "I shouldn't feel anything for another eight to ten weeks at least."

"Can I still feel…?"

Her face grew hot to the touch. It was such an innocent question with an equally pure intention, yet she was more reluctant to let him feel her abdomen than she was allowing him inside of her body. Ymir pushed herself up a little, having to straddle his hips to remain on the couch whilst allowing him to feel her stomach. Despite having told him about her pregnancy by putting his hand against the bump, she was trembling now as she lifted her shirt to her bra-line.

Carefully he reached forward and pressed both hands against her stomach, his thumbs softly brushing over her smooth skin. "You don't feel any different, to be honest…" he whispered prior to turning his head away to cough.

"I feel bloated, and my pants aren't cooperating with me."

"I can help buy you maternity clothes, Ymir."

She stayed silent for a few moments before she reached down and placed her hands over his, staring into his eyes now that her own had re-adjusted to the darkness. "Is that you wanting to keep the baby?" she asked.

"I-I… I don't know."

"If you're going to stick with me, whether we end up together or you find someone else, and you're going to help me raise this child; I'll keep our baby."

"What do you mean if I find someone else? We're allowed to get into a relationship with others despite having a baby?"

"Isn't that what divorced parents do?" she questioned, arching one of her eyebrows. "You don't know who you'll meet, nor do I. Who's to say that you aren't going to find the girl of your dreams tomorrow?"

Bertholdt didn't say a word, biting his tongue instead of professing his devotion. Due to Ymir's mixed signals and vague proposals, he insisted on keeping his desires confined to his thoughts. For some time he'd been aware that he'd readily date this woman, maybe go as far as to marry her. Even before there was a living being inside of her, conceived of the passion they had made one night—but he couldn't bring himself to confess now, hinting was hard enough to do.

Ymir settled herself back down onto his chest once more, her face resting back into the crook of his neck. It wasn't hard for Ymir to piece together, taking her mere moments she had always been keen on the emotions of others'.

"Bert… just say it."

"H-hah?"

She tilted her head so that she could peer up at him, giving her a better chance to analyze his expression. "Confess."

Shaking his head, he frowned down at Ymir in denial. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Ymir…"

"Your face reflects every single thought that runs through your mind," explained the woman, a slick grin raising her lips towards the heavens.

"H-has it?" he asked, chuckling nervously. Beads of sweat were forming over his brow and his heart rate shot up from relaxed to vigorous. "I think you're imagining things."

The female raised her eyebrows and peered into his eyes for a while before allowing for the topic to drop. She knew that either she'd weasel it out of him, or he'd willingly confess to his adoration without being prompted.


	7. Chapter Six

The two of them sat adjacent to one another in the waiting room. Ymir's arms were folding across her chest, her left leg bouncing with anxiety while her eyes glanced from the doorway to the other patients. None of them were paying her any mind, yet she felt like all eyes were on her, judging the unwed mother as she waited besides the father for their first appointment.

Bertholdt was not in a better state, not by a long shot. His eyes were wide and frantically darting around the room. Ymir noticed his apprehensive behavior when she finally glanced over at him; unable to watch any longer, she reached out and placed her hand firmly on his thigh.

"Bert, come on…" she said low, not wishing for anyone to hear them speaking. "You're not even the one who has this thing inside of you."

"S-sorry, Ymir," said the male, his voice hushed down. "I'm just… nervous. Aren't you?"

"Of course I am, I'm frightened… to be honest. But, I'm here for you and I'd like to have you here for me, too."

The large-nose male inhaled deeply, his face calming and the trembling began to subside as he reached for Ymir's hand. He grasped her hand in his and squeezed it snugly, his dark-slate eyes falling to his lap. Although he had himself under conscious control, his thumb circled over the back of her hand repeatedly—continuing the soothing motion until Ymir's name was called.

She pulled her hand away in a swift, sharp movement; her fingers hovering over her lips as she mumbled a sorry to Bertholdt. He gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head while he pushed his hands into the spacious pockets along his thighs. The two of them walked up to the nurse and were promptly greeted by the woman before being invited to follow her. Preceding their arrival to one of the OB/GYN rooms, Ymir and Bertholdt were led to a small alcove meant for general examination.

"Can you please remove your shoes and step on the scale?"

"Yeah—sure, let me get those… off." Ymir wiggled her way out of her sneakers, exposing her black ankle-socks. She stepped up on the platform of the scale and she watched with irritation as the numbers continued to shoot up.

128.7, 143.2, 154.0, 155.4, 155.8, 156.1. "Ah, 156," commented the nurse while she jotted down the number on the paperwork she had for Ymir's visit.

By the facial expression that Ymir made when she glanced over at him, Bertholdt could tell that she was less than pleased to have her weight documented. After being weighed, Ymir put her shoes back on, and held still while the nurse inserted the rounded tip of the thermometer into Ymir's ear canal.

"99.7, healthy."

Instead of giving a smart-ass remark, Ymir occupied herself with grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder while she and Bertholdt followed the nurse to the specialized OB/GYN room. It was bright, the walls covered by pastel-floral wallpaper that looked a tad aged. The nurse quickly took Ymir's blood pressure and heart rate before leaving Bertholdt and Ymir alone in the room.

Ymir sank into the chair beneath her, placing her hands in her face and taking in deep breaths in hopes that she could calm herself down before the doctor entered their room. For a while, Bertholdt didn't even notice the sound of her breathing, too preoccupied by reading over the posters plastered on the walls, one in particular showing the development of a fetus by month—but after nearly five minutes passed, he tuned into the deep breaths. He glanced over at her in concern, reaching once again for her hand. "Are you alright, Ymir?"

Her hands lowered but she hesitated in turning her head to peer at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth while she inhaled slowly through her nose. "Yeah, it's just getting to me, I guess. Afraid to see it. If we see it..."

"Can… I ask why?" he implored.

The room fell silent as she mulled over her own thoughts, trying to find an answer that satisfied his question as much as it answered her own curiosity of her fear. "I think it's because… I'm still not really ready for a baby. I don't know how good of a parent I'll be… and I think it's all of those unanswered questions that scare me. I'm scared of failing this child…"

Bertholdt softly squeezed her hand in his own, leaning over to get a better look at her. "Hey… you're going to be a good mom," he consoled. "You're already worried about our baby, you're already tuning into those maternal instincts. I trust you, Ymir…"

The speckled-face woman was stunned into absolute silence, her eyes meeting with Bertholdt's and holding them in a magnetic gaze. "I won't be as good of a mom as you'll be as good of a father, Bert…"

"That's bullshit," he retorted. "We're working together, remember? We're going to be good parents. We are."

The two of them jumped at the rapping on the door, the handle turning down ninety degrees before the obstetrician entered the room.

Ymir's obstetrician smiled lightly at the two of them, extending her hand out first to the female in the room. "Hello, I'm Doctor Solberg. It's nice to meet you, Ymir. Bertholdt."

"Hi…"

"Firstly, congratulations on the baby. Is this the father joining you today?"

"Yes," Ymir replied, grasping Bertholdt's hand nervously. It wasn't a vain attempt to feign a relationship with him; her hands were beginning to sweat and were clammy in Bertholdt's. He gave her hand another squeeze, tucking his fingers in the spaces between hers.

"Well it's nice to have you here, Dad," Dr. Solberg said as she seated herself down in front of the computer system on the petite desk. "Today you came in for your first check-up and ultrasound, is that correct?"

Both of them nodded, Ymir additionally making a confirming hum.

"If I can get you to sit up on the exam table, I can begin your physical exam."

Ymir was reluctant to leave Bertholdt's side, glancing at him anxiously as she strolled from her seat to the examination table. She hopped herself up on the seat, the paper crinkling beneath her rear and with any small movements she while seated upon it.

Beginning the exam, Solberg grasped her stethoscope and placed the earpieces inside of each ear. She then took the chest piece and carefully pushed it against Ymir's upper chest, listening to her heart beat. When all was clear, the doctor proceeded to lift the back of Ymir's shirt up and listened while the woman took in deep breaths.

"All is well when it comes to your circulatory and respiratory," Solberg commented, jotting down the results on the clipboard she had with a completed list of tests. "Now, if I can get you to open your mouth wide and say 'ah.'"

With much hesitation, Ymir opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out a minute amount before exhaling an "ah." Dr. Solberg, with a miniature flashlight in hand, peered inside of Ymir's mouth, making small noises of approval. "Very healthy."

Following the abdominal, neurological, dermatological, and extremity exams; allowing Ymir to slip off of the table. "So we're going to have you get some blood drawn as well as get a urine sample from you. Do you know where the lab is?"

"Yes."

"Alright, so take this card with you and give it to the people at the service counter in the lab. They'll be with you shortly, and then you can return to this room when you're finished."

"Okay," Ymir said, grabbing her bag and winter coat. Bertholdt got up quickly, opening the door for Ymir to exit through first. The duo began on their way to the doctors' office laboratory, both staying fairly close to the other.

"You're really healthy for a woman who drinks and smokes as often as you, Ymir."

"I can be healthy while making unhealthy life choices, Bert," she retorted, a little grin pulling on her lips. "This isn't exactly a healthy life choice, especially considering how we got into this mess."

His face flushed and he tried hushing Ymir, it backfired considering she began to laugh at his embarrassment. "Th-that's not something other people need to know about, Ymir!" he protested; his face bright with varying hues of red.

"Krista knows, and I'm sure you and Reiner have talked about this," argued the shorter of the two. "Even if you didn't, Reiner probably heard from a certain blonde girl we both know and love."

"Well, yes—he knows, but he doesn't know when i-it happened or how, and I didn't know what to tell him so I-I—"

"Oh god, what did you even tell him?"

"I told him that w-well, we uhm… were dating for a short period and then this happened," Bertholdt confessed.

She raised her eyebrows, beginning to smirk at the flustered male besides her. "You told him we were together?"

"It's not like I thought we were! I know it was only a once in a lifetime thing that happened between us, I just didn't know how to describe it to him. He is my best friend, but I don't want him thinking less of you because you had sex with me…"

"Think less of me? Because of that? Bert, are there some self-esteem issues you'd like to share with me?" she probed, both bemused and quite curious. "If anything, I would think that Reiner would be slapping you on the back. '_Hey, you turned the lesbian straight, ha-ha._'"

"But I didn't turn you straight—we just got drunk and… yeah, we had sex."

"You think I wasn't actually into it?"

"N-no! That's not what I meant!" Bertholdt exclaimed, rapidly shaking his head back and forth. "I just meant that well… I… I thought you were just drunk and aroused. I didn't think you thought anything more of it. I thought that you just wanted to get off, and by any means…"

"Bert, yeah—I was drunk as hell, but I wasn't out of my mind to the point where I'd go against who I am," she began. "I prefer being with women, and to be honest, you're the first guy I've ever had sex with. I'm not a lesbian; I'm pansexual—but it's just a preference that I go for girls more than guys. You surprised me; I didn't think I would ever have sex with a man."

"I was… the first?"

Ymir nodded her head while she placed the green card into the black tray on the front counter of the test lab. She hadn't bothered telling Bertholdt prior to this moment as she had considered it a fairly unimportant detail of her life, but some fact she'd given to him had caught him so off-guard that he stared at her in pure amazement and she wasn't exactly sure which detail had stunned him.

"It was your first time with a man, and I got you pregnant…"

"Please, tell me you're not going to turn this into a reason to feel guilty… I already have my own doubts about my abilities—I don't want you doubting yourself too."

"N-no, I just… feel strange knowing that…"

"Why?" she asked, tilting her head marginally.

"Because this was the only experience you've ever had with a man and it had such a big consequence…" His eyes were downcast and his voice trembled as if he were on the verge of tears. Ymir didn't know whether to console him or just tell him flat-out that this wasn't close to being the worst consequence for their actions.

"Bertholdt, seriously. At first, I was really upset that I was pregnant, but I was never upset with you. I was mad at myself and scared for the baby's sake and my own. I didn't know what I wanted to do about any of this, I wasn't even sure that I wanted to tell you about it. You think this is—Bert…"

The man had lifted one of his hands to his face, using his palm to cover both of his eyes. It didn't hide the tears that ran down his cheeks, dripping from his chin to the floor. His lips were quivering in an unmanageable fashion, a small whimper escaping his throat.

Ymir acknowledged that she was being too harsh in tone, adding to the stress that was already weighing down on their shoulders. She guided Bertholdt by his free hand to the chairs placed for patients to wait while seated. "Come on… sit with me," she murmured softly to him.

He obeyed, sitting next to her while in the midst of getting himself together. Already the uncomfortably twinge of her heartstrings reflected the guilt she felt for upsetting him. She cupped his face in her hands, carefully guiding him closer to her. Bertholdt fought against her initially, but he gave in when he felt her lips press up against his. He softly parted his, overlapping her warm lips with his own.

She began to whisper against his lips while she kissed him, "I didn't mean to be so harsh… I'm sorry…"


	8. Chapter Seven

Bertholdt had rested his head against Ymir's shoulder while he calmed himself down, the other brunette stroking his hair. She had been combing through the black tresses in a soothing fashion using her fingers for some time while they sat together in silence.

When it seemed that Bertholdt was possibly falling asleep on her shoulder, Ymir spoke up. "You okay…?" she murmured.

He hummed softly, lifting his head and straightening his back. "Sorry I started to cry…"

Ymir muted him from apologizing any further by kissing his lips softly and whispering "stop" when she pulled back just enough to breathe. He looked as if he was about to protest, yet he never said a word.

"Ymir?"

When they turned to look up at the counter they saw a man in a white coat standing besides the counter with a clipboard in his grasp. Ymir got up first, grasping Bertholdt's wrist and pulling him to his feet.

The entire process in the laboratory didn't take more than five minutes. For Ymir, filling the cup with her piss for the urinalysis was the most uncomfortable part of this entire check up. Especially considering some of it had gotten on her fingers.

With her blood drawn, and they were free to return back to the obstetrician's room. Ymir had a cotton-ball taped to her arm where her blood had been collected and she fiddled with it during the stroll back to the OB/GYN ward.

"Does it hurt?" Bertholdt questioned, peering over at her from the corner of his eyes.

"To have my blood drawn?"

"No, having that taped to you," he clarified.

Ymir shook her head, "Nah. I'm just kind of on edge, you know that. If I'm not fiddling with this, I'm going to fiddle with my clothes or my necklace, essentially anything that I can fiddle with."

He laughed softly, turning his eyes so he could see ahead of himself. "Do you want me to hold your hand when they do the ultrasound?"

She slowed down a little, her face reflecting her contemplation. "I guess that would help me feel better about it. Do you mind holding my hand?"

This time Bertholdt shook his head, a small smile presenting itself on his features.

"No, not at all," promised the giant. "I'm the one with sweaty hands after all; shouldn't it be you who would prefer not to?"

The woman rolled her eyes as she reflected a grin back at Bert. She extended her arm and punched his shoulder, "You sweat on me the night this happened, so I can handle your clammy-fucking-hand."

The two of them laughed as they turned the corner and entered the same room. Instead of sitting on the chair, Ymir clambered back up on the examination table and lay with her back resting against it. Bertholdt joined her by standing beside the table and flashing a reassuring smile.

She reached up and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his face. "I don't know if I'd choose this charming attitude you have over the anxious one you had coming in here today."

"I'm n-not being charming! I'm just trying to keep you calm, if you don't remember that you, too, were pretty restless!" Bert was thankful his hood was large enough to hide the blush that rose in his face, and even more thankful that their attention was drawn to the door when someone knocked upon the wood.

"Hello again," greeted Solberg, smiling at the two of them. "While we wait for the test results, I'd like to get some more information from both of you."

"Like what kind of information?" Ymir asked.

The doctor chuckled, understanding that it could come across as more of an interrogation. "Just some information about your lifestyle, relationships, and health habits, dear."

The young woman nodded her head, "Oh, alright. What first?"

With every question asked, Ymir gave her honest answer. The only ones that snagged and prompted a comment or deeper insight from Solberg were her drinking habits and relationships. When Ymir explained that she'd only ever been with women prior to her conception with Bertholdt, the doctor furrowed her brows.

"Were you trying to conceive a baby for the sake of a relationship with another woman?" she asked curiously, a petite smile on her face.

Ymir's face flushed darkly while she shook her head, "N-no. I'm not with anyone."

"Oh, then this is an unplanned pregnancy?" the doctor asked, filling out the boxes for information upon the computer screen.

"Yeah… we weren't trying to have a baby, we just kind of…whoops."

"H-ha, yeah, it was an accident," Bertholdt confirmed.

"It happens, do not worry about it, Ymir," Doctor Solberg assured. "Have the two of you shared with each other what you wish to do about this pregnancy? If you do not feel prepared for parenthood there is always adoption or abortion available to you in these early stages."

Ymir looked up at Bertholdt, searching his eyes for reassurance of the decision they'd made. He held her gaze tenderly, lightly bobbing his head in affirmation.

"We're keeping our baby," she said firmly.

All three glanced at the door from the moment they heard disturbance coming from the opposite side. Solberg nodded with a smile on her lips while she rose to her feet, opening the door leading out of the room in order to collect the test results inside of a vanilla envelope.

"Alright, momma; your tests results are in. Let's go over them now," the fair-haired woman insisted. "Let's see… you're…the picture of fair health. These results do not give me any reason to be concerned about your well-being. I simply request for the health of you and your child that you do not consume any alcohol from this point on and that you do not take up any unhealthy habits."

"Of course."

"So—Ymir, are you ready to see your baby for the first time?"

Her face drained of color and she could feel her stomach churning in discomfort, and despite these physical symptoms she gave a determined nod. "Yeah, _we_ are." Ymir gripped Bertholdt's hand soundly; her fingers intertwined with his while her idle hand lifting her shirt high over her tumescent abdomen.

"I warn you—this will feel cold." The doctor had a bottle of _Aquasonic_ gel turned upside-down, her hand squeezing the container and expelling the chilled jelly onto Ymir's stomach.

The cold shocked her more than she had anticipated and her hand constricted Bertholdt's in her grip. He whispered softly to her, but it was lost by the upstart of rhythmic pounding from the unit besides Solberg on the opposite side of Ymir.

Their eyes turned to the dark screen, the pounding maintaining a consistent tempo and dynamic while the obstetrician smoothed the coating of gel over the freckled midsection before her.

"There's your baby!" Solberg announced, beaming at the couple.

It felt as if her stomach was about to cave in upon itself. She couldn't breathe, let alone process what she was seeing on the screen. Their child was facing the transducer probe, its head was tucked close to its torso and its appendages were bent. It was still so minuscule, yet she overheard Solberg mentioning to them that their baby was a healthy size for a ten week old fetus.

Bertholdt leaned down and rested his head lightly atop of Ymir's cranium, his eyes fixated upon the monitor. "That's ours…"


	9. Chapter Eight

Her big toe twitched up and down in a rhythmic fashion, almost keeping time in place of a Grandfather Clock's second hand. Ymir was holding a printed photo of their baby from the first ultrasound, her fingers nervously rubbing against each other with the photo acting as a border between them. They wouldn't be able to determine the sex of their child for another month-and-a-half, but it would come soon enough. Presently, the gestating woman was trying to figure out which set of the parents should be the first to hear the news.

Bertholdt had been brought up by an Atheist-Universalist couple whereas Ymir was raised by a single mother of Liberal Judaism beliefs. Her mother was doting and compassionate, but firm and harsh when the situation called for her strength. Knowing her mother as well as she did, Ymir figured there were two possible outcomes. Both would be accepting, but one would contain a substantial amount of parental disappointment whist the other would be immediate anticipation for the birth of the first grandchild.

"Do you think we should call your parents first…?" Ymir questioned, her eyes still directed at the image of their baby in her hands.

The father poked his head up from the _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ book he'd borrowed from the nearest library, his lips sucked between his teeth as he dwelled over the question she'd presented. "Well… I don't really think they'd react _negatively_, per say," he stated. "Maybe they'd be a little surprised and worried that we're both still so young, but I don't think either of my parents would be upset. I hope…"

"Yeah, that's kind of what I'm thinking my mom will be like; _if_ she's not upset, that is," replied Ymir. She placed the photo down on the small table at the end of her l-bend sofa, picking up her phone in its place. "So… you want to go first? Or me?"

"It's not really up to me, Ymir," Bert said softly, his eyes casting downwards while a light rose began to dust over his cheeks. "It is our baby, but it's growing inside of you. You can call the shots with this one."

A small grimace pulled at the corner of her lips, her thumb dragging across her touch screen in order to unlock her phone. She sat in thought for a little while after having opened up the "call" screen. Inside her chest it felt like a war was reaching its climax, the fight of flight response bringing on strong waves of anxiety that crashed over her, trying to convince her to keep this pregnancy hidden from their parents.

"Let's call your parents first…"

Bert raised his eyebrows a little, "You sure you want to call them first, Ymir?"

"They live relatively close, don't they?" she asked.

He nodded his head, trying to understand her train of thought.

"Let's call them, say we have some news—and then go visit them," Ymir said.

* * *

They sat side-by-side on the bus, bundled from head to toe to combat the frigid cold outside. Ymir's entire body was turned to face Bertholdt, her head resting on his shoulder. The two of them had met up at the bus stop at a quarter to nine; and despite having gone to bed early, Ymir was completely worn out after a night of irregular bouts of vomiting. Bertholdt had initially kept his hands to himself, allowing for Ymir to sleep against him until she moved closer for warmth. He had looked down at her tired face and carefully wrapped one of his arms around her, keeping her close for comfort.

They were nearly to his parents' house and already he could feel the tension in his chest. His stomach was knotted multiple times, another knot forming with each stop, bringing them closer to their own. Bertholdt's eyes cascaded to Ymir, her nose red from the breeze that came through the folding-doors of the bus. Gingerly he rocked her shoulder back and forth, causing her to stir out of her slumber.

"Mmn…?"

"Hey," he greeted softly. "We're almost there."

The woman groaned softly as she stretched against him, taking a deep breath and releasing it through a heavy sigh. "Sorry I'm so tired," she murmured, wiping her eyes as best as she could without smudging her light application of eyeliner.

"Not as sorry as I am that my parents wanted me to visit so early," assured the raven haired male. "You can sleep on the way back too, alright?"

"Thank you," she said with a small simper.

When the display overhead read "68th Street South" Bertholdt grasped the nearest pole for support as he stood. The bus stopped after he had risen, he then extended his hand to Ymir to help her up. She took a hold of his hand and the two of them dismounted from the bus, the only two to get off at this particular stop. Ymir watched as the bus lurched into motion, pulling away from them and continuing down the street.

Bertholdt took out his phone, using only a single thumb to give an update to his parents as to their location. "You ready? It's only a short walk down this way," he explained, giving her an assuring smile.

"Yeah, that's fine," Ymir retorted.

The duo headed down the street, Ymir's arms folded across her chest as she inspected their surroundings. Bertholdt understood she was simply getting a feel for her environment and didn't bother to question what she was doing. When he began up a tarred driveway, Ymir followed behind without objection.

It was an accommodating two-story house with an elegant feel to the design with a balcony above the front porch and spacious windows allowing plentiful light into the home. Ymir's mouth was marginally agape with awe as her eyes took it all in. "You grew up here…?"

"Well—er, yeah," Bertholdt affirmed. "Born and raised right here in this house."

"It's massive…" Ymir followed him up the sidewalk to the front door. He stepped aside and gestured to the doorbell.

"Go ahead," he offered.

Ymir gave him a perplexed raise of the eyebrows before she stepped forward and pushed the small button. They could both hear the ring of the doorbell from outside, the ringing followed by approaching footsteps. The female held her breath, standing rigid as the door unlocked and opened.

"Bertholdt, welcome home!"

A middle-aged woman stepped out of the house, enfolding Bertholdt in her embrace. She had graying, chocolate hair and a fair pigment to her skin, but her eyes were the same dark slate-blue as Bertholdt's.

The tanned male flushed a little and wrapped his arms around his mother with a comforted smile, "Hi, mom."

The woman released her son from her hug, her head turning so she could see Ymir. "I see you've brought a guest," his mother said. "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I'm Daniela, Bertholdt's mother."

Ymir nervously extended her right hand out to Daniela, "I'm Ymir. It's nice to meet you, too."

Daniela shook Ymir's hand gladly, inviting the two of them in out of the frigid cold air. The foyer was decorated with lavish décor. Ymir gazed at scented candles on the nearby table, taking in a deep waft of the scent before she stepped back with a pleasant expression. Bertholdt raised his eyebrows at her curiously before she explained, "Cinnamon vanilla."

"What news did you want to share with us, Bert?" his mother questioned with intrigue, her eyes occasionally flashing over at Ymir.

"Can you get dad first?" he pled. "I'd like to share the news with both of you around."

Daniela glimpsed at Ymir's hand, finding no ring on her left ring-finger before she departed up the stairs. "Hans, Bertholdt's home with the news!" she called out. "Can you come down so we can all hear it?"

"Be right down, I just need to finish dressing," countered the head of the household.

Bertholdt's mother made her way back down to where they stood in the foyer, "You can come into the living room, you two. No need to be so shy. We were hoping you'd stay for dinner."

The taller of the two glanced at his guest, receiving a small nod. "I think we'll take you up on that offer, mom," he said with a small grin as he seated himself down on the Tuscan sofa. "What are you preparing?"

"I have been planning on making some tetrazzini for a few days," she answered, returning a smile to her son and his guest now that they were both seated comfortably. "So… how did you two meet?"

"We've known each other for… years now?" Ymir asked, uncertain of how long they'd been acquainted with each other.

"Since… junior year, wasn't it?" he added.

She nodded in agreement, "Yeah that sounds about right."

"Oh, you two met in school?" his mother asked.

"We met through mutual friends, but went to different schools," explained the stranger in their home. Ymir had begun to undo her jacket, thankful that she'd chosen to wear a sweatshirt that concealed her condition.

"Mutual friends?"

"Reiner and Ymir's friend Krista had met up, and they invited us out for a movie a few years ago, mom."

When Reiner's name was mentioned, Bertholdt's mother nodded in understanding and she continued to don a gentle smile. "Reiner and Bertholdt have been friends for years, since they were in elementary school, Reiner was always one to introduce Bertholdt to new friends."

Ymir hummed in acknowledgement, "That's how it's been for Krista and I, pretty much."

Hans entered the room and their attention turned to him, but he dismissed them by raising his hands in the air. "I'm just coming in, no need to give me _that_ treatment," he laughed. He moved over to sit in an armchair at the computer desk in the room. Bertholdt took after his father in just about every way possible, especially in his stature. "So, that _big_ news?"

Bertholdt took a shaky inhale, letting it out nervously as he looked from his parents to Ymir. She scooted away slightly, murmuring for him not to look at her like that. "Well, Ymir and I have some news for you two," he began. His parents responded with acknowledgement, his mother urging him to continue.

"Ymir went to the doctor last week, and they informed her that she is pregnant."

The room fell silent and Ymir hid her face as much as she could with only one of her hands. She could feel the heat engulfing her face, a dense pit sitting in the depth of her stomach. Bertholdt's parents shared glances with each other before gazing at the young adults before them.

"And… it's yours, Bert?" questioned his father.

Bertholdt nodded earnestly, his hands grasping one another between his knees.

"Judging by your expressions, I'd say that this was not a part of the plan," Daniela said softly. "Am I right?"

They nodded in unison, Ymir refusing to hold any eye contact with any of those with her in the room. She was afraid to meet their gaze, afraid that she would be able to see every thought that went through their head through their faces.

Bertholdt's father spoke up once again, "What is your plan, then? Are you giving the child up?"

"No, we're not," Bertholdt replied.

The color in their faces drained, his father developing a lump in his throat. "Are you two choosing abortion instead?"

"No!" their child cried. "We're… keeping it. We're going to raise the baby."

Ymir looked to Bertholdt, amazed by how he was handling the entire situation. From the day she had met him, she'd been able to see how easily he stepped back and let someone else handle these tough situations. Now it was her who was standing back, letting him stand alone.

"Bertholdt convinced me to keep the baby," she declared. "I hadn't initially known what I wanted, but with the promise of his help, I chose to keep it. We know we're not prepared, and that we aren't the most stable financially, but we're going to give this baby the best life we can."

Hans nodded his head, his wife beginning to smile again.


	10. Chapter Nine

"Can… I ask how it happened?"

Ymir refused to make eye contact with the other woman, her hands resting on the lip of the marble sink. She wouldn't have expected anyone outside of their friend group to ask about the conception of their child. The weight of Daniela's stare dared her to turn and meet the gaze, yet Ymir could not bring herself to do so.

"Do you really want to know?" she questioned, her own vision focused on the scenery past the kitchen window. "It isn't a love story…"

Daniela hesitated before she answered, "I'd prefer to, but I don't want to ask for something that would put you outside of your comfort zone."

She closed her eyes, her knuckles growing more prominent as she gripped the sink for support, her arms locking to hold her up. "We were drunk… our small group gets together every now and then with the company of alcohol. I don't think we even let consequences enter our thoughts because we didn't stop for even the briefest moment to realize the risk we were taking. I was too shit faced and too fucking stupid…"

Ymir's eyes shut tightly when she felt Daniela's hand on her shoulder, and she felt the shame burning its way across her face. She began to question her ability to break the news to her own mother in light of her difficulty to explain how this child growing inside her womb had come to be. Her teeth sank down on her bottom lip when she felt the woman urging her closer.

Daniela had wrapped her arms around the girl in compassion, bestowing the unexpected treatment on a woman she'd never known.

"I cannot guarantee Bertholdt's involvement, Ymir," the woman said softly. "But I can promise that I will be here. As a to-be-grandmother and as an older friend..."

Ymir couldn't find words to express her gratitude nor her surprise and hesitation. She instead chose to lean into the shorter woman's arms, hiding her face by tilting her head downwards.

Bertholdt's mother slowly eased them from side to side in a soothing manner. It reminded Ymir of her own mother, the way her mother would comfort her all the way up until she moved out. His mother, similar to her own mother, was very touchy-feely when it came to comforting others.

From the dining room table, Bertholdt could see his mother embracing Ymir. His father had taken him aside to have a private conversation, the two of them now seated at the mahogany table away from the women in the household.

"How well do you know Ymir?"

Bertholdt looked over at his father, his eyes wide and leg bouncing nervously under the table. "Mm?"

"How well do you know her?" Hans questioned once more.

Bertholdt glanced away with a thoughtful expression, the two of them sitting in silence until the time he'd taken to himself to think brought forth reasonable answers.

"I met her back in junior year when she transferred from another school across the state. She kept to herself initially, but after a few class periods spent in the company of Krista Lenz, who has since then been her closest and dearest friend, she opened up to those around her... just a little bit more.

"Back then I only accompanied Reiner to parties, assigning myself to the sober cab position to keep him safe and however many friends I could fit into the Camry. The night I was first introduced to Ymir was the night that Krista approached me while I was hauling Reiner out to the car. She had Ymir draped over her arms to keep Ymir from slumping on the floor. After I got Reiner in the backseat, Krista and I helped put Ymir in as well.

"Since Ymir lived closer to home back then, I dropped off Reiner first with Krista's assistance. Then I drove Krista home and promised her I'd get Ymir home safely. When I got to Ymir's condo I parked out front and tried waking her up. For a while she didn't respond aside from small groans. Then when I opened the back door to the car, she sat up and locked eyes with me.

"I tried explaining to her that I was dropping her off at her house, but she only furrowed her eyebrows and started to climb out of the car. I walked her up to her front door, and she asked who I was so I gave her my name. She nodded and took out her keys, then she resumed looking at me after she unlocked the door and pushed it open a little-'Thank you,' she said before disappearing into her house."

Bertholdt's father had placed his head onto the palm of his hand, his eyes focused solely on his son. "Is that all you know about her, though?"

An embarrassed Bertholdt shook his head, only now aware of the rant he'd gone on to explain how they'd met.

"I know that she's Jewish because she'd correct us when we'd ask how her Christmas was. She has her driver's license, but has never had a car of her own. She works full-time at a convenience store close to the apartment she shares with Krista... Uhm..."

He gnawed at the corner of his lip, wracking his brain for any other details about Ymir.

"She... she's a good person. She's cold and hard to approach at first, but when she feels close enough to you to actually care about you; you get a glimpse of the person who is scared of screwing up. She's got worries similar to my own; fears of being rejected, of failing, of not finding her place in this world. There's a lot we have in common..."

Hans nodded his head slowly, placing a hand on his son's shoulder before he rose from his seat at the table. Bertholdt, unsure of himself, remained in his own chair until his father gestured for him to follow him out of the room before he turned off the light-switch.

* * *

Bertholdt and Ymir had been offered a chance to help prepare dinner, and it turned into a full-blown family event by the time the meal was ready to be served. The first Ymir had ever shared with those outside of her own family. By the time the four of them actually sat down at the dining room table, Ymir was sporting an authentic grin.

On the table before them was a casserole dish filled to the brim with cheesy-sausage shell noodles. Ymir and Bertholdt had taken it upon themselves to do most of the cooking; Ymir dealing with the preparation while Bertholdt took the thoroughly cooked, ground beef and tender pasta that his guest had prepared for him so he could add the final two ingredients before they put it in the oven.

The group of four tore apart the beautiful casserole, their stomachs finally full by the time they had finished their meal with blueberry dump-cake dessert. The mother-to-be rested her hand on her swollen stomach, amazed by how full she felt with both a child on the way and far too much in her system.

"How did it taste?" questioned Bertholdt, his smile directed to his parents.

His father was occupied by wiping his mouth and so his mother took the time to give her own opinion, "It was delicious. You two prepared it extraordinarily well. I love it."

"Your mother said all I needed to," Hans said with a hearty laugh, wiping potential remains from his beard.

Bertholdt beamed with pride, some of the stress that had been etched into his face from the early hours of the morning was steam-pressed from existence.

"We'll take care of dishes since you kids worked so hard to make the casserole," Bert's father said whilst scooting his seat back away from the mahogany table. His wife joined him, teasingly putting her dirty dishes on top of his and expecting him to not only carry them to the kitchen, but also pile Ymir and Bert's dishes on as well.

Alone for the first time in hours, the Romanesque couple sat side by side. For a considerable amount of time neither one of them said a word, allowing for the silence between them to grow. It was only when Bertholdt's hand grasped Ymir's that she turned to face him, amber eyes meeting deep slate.

"How are you feeling?" the male asked, peering into her eyes with some concern.

The woman adjusted their hands so she could lace her fingers with his while they conversed, "I'm fine. Just tired and full of food. Kind of bloated feeling… especially with how tight my clothes are beginning to feel with the baby growing."

A small frown tugged down on the corners of his lips, "Do you need new clothes?"

"They'd be nice, but for the time being the clothes I have will do," Ymir replied. "They just don't feel the same, don't worry though. I'll tell you if I need some new pants or a new bra."

The color that invaded Bertholdt's face brought out the light-hearted feel in the air that would often surround them. She laughed a little, squeezing his hand and shaking her head in false disapproval. "You can see me completely naked, impregnate me, and the topic of bras gets you to transition into a tomato?"

A timid smile curled the frown on his lips upwards, "N-no… It's just that now your body is changing so radically, and I realized that you won't be wearing the same kind of clothing that I'm so used to you wearing…"

The thought of apparel hadn't crossed her mind as deep as she would have expected it to by this point, and his statement awoke her awareness to the topic. Her expression grew blank before contorting to pensive. Ymir's focus became dazed while she thought aloud to herself, and Bertholdt. "You're right… I'll need bigger shirts or those hideous maternity shirts, nursing bras… those weird pregnancy pants."

"At least all of your clothes will still be waiting for you after the baby," he replied to reassure her. "If you'd like I can pay for all of the baby's clothing so that you can use your own money for your clothes and anything else you want to purchase."

"Yeah, because we'll need to start stocking up on diapers, clothes, bibs… I really don't feel like listing it all." She began to laugh, remembering just how unprepared they were for parenthood…


	11. Chapter Ten

Ymir's head rested on Bertholdt's shoulder while they waited under the glass shelter for the bus. Their breath collected together, rising up in smoke-like ribbons. The two of them had only been seated for a few minutes and already the cold was bringing warm colors to their noses and ears. The headlights belonging to the cars approaching them and the taillights of those driving away were the only lights they could see aside from two lamp posts nearly fifty feet away from them on each side.

Bertholdt took this silence in the dark as a chance to shower some affection on the woman besides him, his lips pressing to her forehead and against the roots of her hair. By her reaction, he knew she at least didn't mind the attention… but he was unclear of how much she enjoyed it.

She tilted her head up and tried to find his eyes in the moving lights. When she found the Payne's gray irises that peered through the darkness back at her, she began to slowly lean in towards Bertholdt. Her eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes as an indication of what she was craving. Bert's cheeks ripened with color and warmth as he started to lean down towards the female seated next to him. She surprised him by moving suddenly to wrap an arm around his neck and close the space between their lips, her own meshing to his hungrily.

Initially he cried out in bewilderment with his eyes wide, but he leaned into the kiss within moments of feeling her lips pressed to his. Recalling the memory of her lips was inadequate in comparison to the genuine sensation, he couldn't contain his enthusiasm now that he could see how much she was enjoying the kiss.

Her eyes were closed firmly while she pushed her tongue into his mouth, trying to taste the desire he held for her. She pulled him closer whilst adjusting herself to sit as close to him as she could get without climbing upon his lap. The hormonal changes her body was experiencing had brought forth a perpetual sexual hunger. For nights she'd been able to keep her needs satisfied using her hands and toys, when her hands couldn't quite bring her to orgasm. Now in Bertholdt's company, she allowed for her self-control to retire in hopes he could fulfill her thirst that night.

When he pulled away she emitted a small whine of protest, her eyes searching his expression with worry. They were out of breath, yet Ymir did not appear phased unlike Bertholdt whom was trying to recover from their heated kiss. "Y-Ymir… we shouldn't do this," murmured the giant. "Not here…"

"Then, at home?" she asked.

He gulped before finding his voice, "H-home?"

"You can spend the night at my apartment, you allowed me to spend the night at yours twice now," she insisted, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it firmly. "I want you to make love to me again."

A knot formed in the pits of his stomach and his swollen heart galloped in his chest, his hand clutching hers while he leaned in once more to kiss her. Her intoxicating kisses couldn't continue once they boarded the bus or he would be sporting his enthusiasm the entire ride home, but for the time until the bus arrived, he savored them. Between kisses he whispered her name, his hands now cupping her face while her arms had tangled around his neck, allowing for minimal space between the two.

When they finally parted to take in the sweet oxygen they had denied their bodies, they were rosy in the cheeks. She nudged his cheek with her nose as she panted before she allowed for her eyes to shut, resting cheek-to-cheek with the father of her child. Bertholdt wrapped his arms around Ymir, pulling her into his tight embrace while they sat in silence.

"Will you…?" she asked.

His cheeks flushed, "Of course I will."

* * *

Ymir hovered over Bertholdt, her lips locked with his in a passionate caress. Together the two of them had removed each and every garment adorning the other's body until they were completely bare. Her barrette was placed on the nightstand, the only item they had removed in their desire that was placed neatly.

Bertholdt held onto Ymir's hips, slowly grinding his hard length against the inner side of her thigh. A small accumulation of pre-cum ran down her leg and spread goose bumps over her entire body. She reached down with care and gave his length a tender stroke, her eyes opening to peer at the man beneath her.

"Do you want me?" she questioned, a hint of playfulness in her tone.

A small groan of pleasure had come from deep in his throat when her hand wrapped around his length, running from the base all the way to the tip of his penis. "Shouldn't I be the dominant one?" he asked.

The woman had angled herself up with his length, lowering herself down until she was able to stand his member up so she could feel the throbbing muscle against her heat. "Does it matter?" questioned the female. "I thought making love was about enjoying yourself and your partner's body."

"P-partner?"

As she lowered herself down she rested a hand on her growing abdomen, the faintest of moans escaping her lips; "I wouldn't be pregnant if you hadn't been my sex partner, Bert."

She had a point, yet Bertholdt had been both hopeful and worried that she'd meant partner in a more intimate sense. The closeness between the two had been growing, vines twirling around them and tangling them into a relationship containing immense trust and care for one another.

Ymir curved her entire spine as she rocked herself up only to let herself fall back down onto his wonderfully wide girth. Her body had hungered for his company, his touch, his love… She could tell that he had missed her as well in the way his hips bucked up to meet her own, causing her breasts to jiggle erotically. "B-Bert… oh god…" she whimpered softly to the man beneath her, bringing his blush's saturation to an ultimate high.

"Ymir, I-I… you're… you're squeezing me so tightly," moaned the raven-hair student. His hips jerked up towards the heavens, Ymir's inner labia beckoning for him to see the stars. It took all of his willpower for him to sit up on the bed, Ymir still seated on his lap while she paused.

"Bert…?" she questioned, her eyes hazy from the ecstasy coursing through her veins.

Instead of responding verbally, Bertholdt grasped the woman's hips and bucked his own upwards into her warmth. A yelp of pleasure was released from her throat, her head falling forward towards him while she resumed rocking herself over his hips. She raised her arms up to wrap around his neck in the search for support, her face nestling against his shoulder. His eyes glanced at her for a short time before he shut them tightly, gritting his teeth while he hastened his thrusts.

With the two of them moving in sync, Bertholdt plunging deeper inside of her while she let herself rise and sink back onto his length. Ymir's breath was rapidly decomposing until she was panting desperately ludicrously, squeals replacing the moans that had been falling hopelessly out of her open mouth.

Bertholdt could feel the advancement of his orgasm, knowing he was nearing his brink. He opened his mouth, panting shakily before he possessively latched his teeth down on Ymir's neck. She cried out in surprise and clutched onto him tighter while she wailed out in the midst of her indulgence.

"B-Bertholdt!"

Her eyes snapped wide open, no sound originating from her open mouth. In unison, the couple had climaxed. Bertholdt's hot seed had pumped into her body, filling her until her body couldn't hold a single drop more. Ymir could feel the bruise left by Bertholdt's ivories, a stain growing darker where the indents of his teeth remained.

Bert was shuddering slightly, his breath trembling in the wake of their climaxes. His hands had not left Ymir's hips and he found this moment to be an adequate time for engulfing her in his embrace. The warmth of his body further invited Ymir, encouraging her to settle comfortably into his hold.

With her head resting upon his shoulder and the two of them lying side by side on her queen-size mattress, she dared elicit his confession once more.

"I want to hear you say it…"

"S-sorry?"

She glanced up at him, her eyes reflecting the gravity of her repeated attempt. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Bert."

The rouge tint in his cheeks only flared brighter, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. He'd hoped that she wouldn't resurrect her search for his admission to who his heart yearned for.

"No, I-I don't," he argued, trying to form a solemn expression upon his own face. Based off of the huff of slight irritation, he could tell it wasn't working as he wished it could.

"Don't play dumb. I won't ask again…"

His eyes searched hers apprehensively, desperately seeking for a soft-spot which would allow him additional time to gather his courage. No such luck. "I love you…" he murmured softly, looking away from the woman resting in his arms.

"See, was that so hard...?" Ymir reached up to cup his cheeks in her palms, bringing him closer to her until they were centimeters apart. A smile began to pull at the corners of her lips, the stern expression washing away only to be replaced with a satisfying tenderness.

"I love you too, Bertholdt…"

She sealed her lips to his in profession to her requited fondness.


End file.
